


Offerings to Mars

by Destina



Category: Ben-Hur (1959)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destina/pseuds/Destina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One last hunt, before Messala leaves for Rome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Offerings to Mars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlterEgon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlterEgon/gifts).



> A Yuletide treat for AlterEgon.

Over rocks and brush they ran, Judah in front and Messala close behind. "Faster!" shouted Judah, as he leapt left. Messala laughed and broke right, the better to catch their prey. Judah was always first into the fray, first to spot the lions as they scattered, but Messala didn't mind. He'd seen Judah burst into a pride with nothing more than a bare open hand and a shout, or run as fast and as far as a jackal without tiring. Judah was strong and brave; Messala had loved him all his life. 

Being with Judah was the thing he would miss most dearly when he rode out from Jerusalem. 

"Just below, there!" Judah called, triumphant, pointing as he clambered over a small ridge. He crouched, spear hefted in his hand, ready to strike. Messala turned to see, and a shadow fell across Judah's lean body where he tensed against the stones. 

There was no time for alternatives - there was not even time to call out. Messala's muscles obeyed his urgent command; faster than thought, he threw his spear with all his might, and the lioness crumpled to the ground mid-pounce. 

Judah sprang up, staring, as Messala moved to his side. The lions below loped for safety, no longer a concern. "You are not hurt?" Messala asked, gripping Judah's shoulder. Judah shook his head, his face gone pale. He turned wide eyes to Messala. 

"You have saved my life," he said softly, with all the praise in his voice Messala longed for, and all the gratitude his heart could hold. 

A hot flush spread across Messala's skin, and he turned away to place his foot against the lioness' neck, bracing her corpse so he could withdraw his spear. "You would do no less for me." 

"And yet," Judah said, pressing close behind him, so close Messala could feel the clatter of Judah's heartbeat mingled with his own. Messala leaned back into the strength of his friend's body, his eyes closed, and offered up a prayer of thanks to Mars for making his aim true. But the scent of fresh blood was on the air; they could not stay, for all the predators would now descend to see what was theirs for the taking.

"Come," Messala said, and when Judah nodded, he led the way, back over the rocks they had traveled on the day's hunt. The joy had gone out of it now, and Messala found himself watching the path carefully. They often hunted for sport and the pleasure of each other's company, but had rarely been caught off guard in such a startling way. 

They settled in the shade of a small palm at the foot of the hill, jostling for position out of the sun as they pulled sweet dates and bread from their pouches. Judah ate with a contented sigh, but Messala could not find pleasure in their meal; the bread was heavy as a stone in his stomach. If that lioness had found her mark - but he could not think of it. Yet he must, because soon enough Judah would hunt alone in the afternoon sun, with no one to stand at his back. 

"You must be more careful," he said at last. 

A broad grin crossed Judah's face. "What do you care for caution? You, who have wrestled a lion and told me afterwards how freeing it was not to care for death?"

"Yes, but that was my death, and my choice," Messala said, and then that cursed hot feeling bubbled up inside him again. "It is not the same." 

"It is exactly the same, and I will be no more cautious than you will be," Judah said. "We go together into danger, do we not?"

"Not always." Messala set his bread aside, for the time had come, much as he wished to put it off for another day. "I leave for Rome tomorrow." 

Judah stilled, watching Messala's face, as if he had not heard correctly. They had talked of it many times over the years. Messala must be educated far from Jerusalem, and then he must join the Roman army; it was the way of things, and Messala's father had never for a moment allowed him to forget his purpose. 

"I knew this day would come." Judah's fingers curled about Messala's wrist, warm and comforting. "But I am still sad for it." 

"As am I. But think of it, Judah! I shall go to Rome, and when I return, it shall be as a Roman soldier - perhaps a commander of men. A centurion, even. I shall go and learn my duties well, and I shall return at the head of an army to make my father proud." It was all Messala had dreamed of, all his life had led toward. He could see no greater purpose, and he would show all his father's men that he could be a great man, as great as his father was. No finer man had ever governed a Roman province; Messala was sure of it. 

A troubled look flashed across Judah's face, and he looked away. In his heart, Messala wanted nothing more than to take Judah with him as a companion, but he knew their fathers would never allow it. Still, it was difficult to see the heavy look of sorrow in Judah's eyes. 

"In the meantime, you must not worry," Messala said, placing his hand over Judah's. "For I will return, I promise you this, above all things." 

"It is not that - although I do wish for you to return," Judah said quietly. He looked down at the ground, where a line of ever-diligent ants sought to carry off their ignored mid-day bread. "It is what you go to do, Messala. What you wish to become. Among my people, there was once a great king - Solomon."

"You have spoken of him before," Messala said.

Judah nodded. "Solomon once said it was better to be an ant - to have no commander, but to live an industrious life."

Messala stared at him for a moment, then took a stick and poked at the line of ants marching over the sand. "I will not be an ant, Judah," he said. "I will be a lion, and I will rule all things, even the ant."

"But I am a lion-killer," Judah said. "As are you." 

Messala raised his eyes to Judah's once again, to the toss of dark curls across his forehead, and the frown on his face. He thought of the lioness, which had wanted to claim his friend as prize and sacrifice; he thought of his father, who awaited him for a feast in his honor. 

He took hold of Judah's solid shoulders and smiled. "You are the ant, remember? Industrious and faithful, a servant of your God. And you cannot be an ant who kills lions. You shall be the ant, and I shall be the lion, and we shall go about our business and each be as we are, with our people." With that he jumped up, scattering ants as his sandals touched the ground. "Let us hunt lions and jackals!"

"Down Eros, up Mars!" Judah cried, the storms clearing from his eyes, and then they were running across the desert, fleeing the wind at their back as they negotiated the dunes with ease. Messala shoved at Judah, who shoved him back, and they tumbled together down the hill, arms and legs tangled up.

"Down Eros, up Mars," Messala panted, as he landed atop Judah's squirming body with a cry of victory. Judah threw his head back, laughing as he grappled with Messala for a better hand-hold; they would see who would win this match. For that moment they were boys again, carefree and wild, and the future was set aside for one more day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Signe for awesome last-minute beta!


End file.
